


U.N.I.

by cosmicmae (orphan_account)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bokuaka - Freeform, But it ends happily it's ok, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Mentions of alcohol, Mentions of drugs, One Shot, i'm very sad, please save me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 14:33:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7577854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/cosmicmae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off of the song U.N.I. by Ed Sheeran. Bokuto decides to go to university in America, leaving Akaashi behind. Akaashi has a difficult time handling it, resorting to smoking and drinking to forget the pain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	U.N.I.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a quick little fic to celebrate my twitter ( @cosmicbokuto ) hitting 400 followers!! Thank you to everyone who follows ily all. Also, don't worry this fic doesn't end too sadly. I adore the song U.N.I. and it inspired me to write a short fic so here we are!! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy :)

            Akaashi was sitting upright in bed, holding a shaky hand to his pounding head as his alarm clock cawed obnoxiously from his bedside table. Bright, morning sunlight seeped into his bedroom through his blinds, despite being pulled tautly shut. He took a deep breath, not bothering to turn off the alarm clock. He would’ve considered hitting the snooze button, but he knew all too well that he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep. So, he just sat there, enduring the agonizingly sharp tones of his alarm, and not caring enough to wipe away the salty streams of tears that were drying on his face.

            The nightmares came back that past night. They were the same ones that haunted him whenever his thoughts drifted astray. They always hit him like a punch in the stomach, without fail. Even so, he found himself wishing he was asleep rather than awake with his blaring alarm and leaden lungs. Not to mention, his awful hangover. He was hit with a feeling of intense nausea as misty memories of the night came hazily back to him.

 

            _Akaashi reached a clumsy hand towards yet another shot. He heard the muffled sound of music he didn’t listen to, but it seemed to be miles away due to the alcohol flooding his veins. He lifted the shot glass to his lips. It felt cool to the touch as it pressed against his lips, which were flushed from his drunken state. The liquid inside, however, was a scorching hot temperature that set his throat aflame. The vodka slipped down to his stomach. He hadn’t been eating much recently, so the only thing it was joining was the rest of the poison he had been drowning his body in, night after night. He shuddered at the pungent taste. He despised vodka, yet he knew it would quickly get him drunk. He kept finding himself ordering shot after shot of it. It was what got the job done, right?_

_“Hey, dude.” Kuroo nimbly slipped into the stool next to him at the bar. He looked at Akaashi with a concerned expression, at least that’s what it looked like. Akaashi’s vision was far too blurred to see clearly. “How are you doing?” Akaashi laughed coldly._

_“I’ve done better.” His speech slurred. He knew he most likely looked pathetic, with dark circles hanging underneath his eyes from lack of sleep, framing bloodshot eyes from smoking throughout the day._

_“I’m going to drive you home.” Kuroo wasn’t drunk, he agreed to be the designated driver, but Akaashi wouldn’t have cared otherwise. He narrowed his eyes at Kuroo._

_“I’m staying here.” He said stubbornly. He turned to the person tending the bar. “Get me another.” He gestured carelessly to the shot glass that lay on the counter, knocking it over in the process. The bartender nodded and began searching for another shot glass. Kuroo placed a hand on Akaashi’s shoulder._

_“Don’t make another shot. He’s drunk off his ass. I’m going to bring him home.” The bartender paused what he was doing and looked at Kuroo for a moment, then shrugged and nodded at him. Frustration washed through Akaashi as he whipped around to face Kuroo. The quick motion set him off balance, so the stool he was sitting on wobbled dangerously. Kuroo set out a hand to steady it._

_“What the fuck?” He shouted at his older friend with rage. The alcohol on his breath was incredibly strong, and Kuroo’s nose wrinkled at the disgusting scent. Kuroo didn’t respond, he only grabbed the sleeve of Akaashi’s t-shirt and hauled him to his feet. Akaashi struggled against him, planting his feet in the ground and setting his jaw stubbornly. “I’m not-”_

_“LOOK AT YOURSELF, AKAASHI!” Kuroo suddenly snapped at him, raising his voice to a volume that jarred Akaashi to stillness. “Everyone is worried about you. You don’t eat, all you ever do is smoke, and you have school tomorrow for fuck’s sake. What the hell are you doing?”_

_“None of your fucking business.” Akaashi shot back. Even his drunken mind knew he would regret the venom in his words once the morning rolled around. Suddenly, sickness hit him and he doubled over. He gagged up what little was in his stomach, then spent the next few minutes dry-heaving and shaking. Kuroo rubbed small circles on his back comfortingly, even though Akaashi’s puke just narrowly missed his shoes._

_Akaashi straightened up, his head spinning. He no longer tried to fight Kuroo as he led him to the car. They took careful steps, dodging various partygoers and friends alike. Once they were done weaving through the crowd and out of the house, the cold breeze sent chills down Akaashi’s spine. He yanked the passenger door of Kuroo’s car open and flung himself inside, slamming it shut forcefully behind him. He pressed his swimming head against the window and closed his eyes. He soon heard Kuroo sit in the driver’s seat and start up the car._

_“Hey, be nice to my car.” He warned. The heat came blasting through the ventilation, quickly warming Akaashi up. As Kuroo began driving, Akaashi soon drifted out of consciousness to the sound of uneven pavement under tires._

            Akaashi was pulled out of his memories by the sound of his mother calling his name. He groaned, flopping onto his back on the bed and pulling the covers high over his face.

            “Keiji,” he heard her voice call from the doorway, “are you feeling alright?”

            “No.” It wasn’t a lie. “I threw up last night.” That wasn’t exactly a lie either. It just wasn’t the full truth. He would never tell her that he actually smoked all day, went out to a party, gotten himself incredibly wasted, _and then_ threw up. He felt a dip on the edge of his mattress where she sat down. When he heard her take a deep breath, he knew where the conversation was headed.

            “Listen, honey. I know Bokuto leaving has been very hard on you, but-”

            “Please.” Akaashi’s voice cracked. His eyes quickly filled with tears again. He could almost see his mother nodding pitifully before he felt her get off the bed.

            “I’m heading to work. You don’t need to go to school if you don’t feel up to it. Are you sure you’ll be alright by yourself?” Akaashi internally scoffed at her question. She never asked that before, since he had always been independent. Even as a child, his mother knew she could trust him to take care of himself. Things quickly became a different story once Akaashi stopped eating and studying, and began caring more about getting drunk than playing volleyball. He was on his way to becoming the next captain, but the position was given to someone else when he began ditching practices to get high.

            “I’ll be fine.” He responded dully.

            “Remember to eat something! I love you!” His mother said as cheerfully as she could. What else do you do in a situation like that? Her high heels clicked out of his room and out the front door before Akaashi even considered responding. Once he heard her car pull out of the driveway, he decided to get out of bed. Pain came alongside each step he took as he crossed his bedroom, going straight to his headache. His mouth was extremely dry, but he ignored his need for water and gazed into the mirror on the wall above his dresser.

            His lack of sleep was incredibly obvious, as shown by his pale pallor and ever-present dark eye circles. His hair was filthy and messily tangled to lay in mats on his head. He was disgusted by his own image and began tearing himself apart over it, before he was interrupted by the vibration of his phone on his dresser. He looked down, and was met with an incoming call from Kuroo. He chose to decline it, instead sending Kuroo a text that thanked him and assured him he was alright. He placed his phone back on the wooden dresser and sighed.

            He didn’t know what brought him to look down, instinct maybe, though immediately he wished he hadn’t. Slightly peeking out from underneath his dresser was a thin, black hairband, lying on his bedroom floor. His lungs instantly felt compressed. They seemed able to hold only half the amount of air he needed. Fresh, raw heartbreak pressed down on his shoulders, causing him to feel unbalanced and even more unstable than before.

            The hairband was Bokuto’s. Kuroo gave him a pack of them as a joke, but the big idiot began using them all the time just to piss everyone off. Bokuto would let Akaashi run his fingers through his natural hair, tying it in crazy styles and laughing at Bokuto’s sad attempts at braiding. He would look so ridiculous that Akaashi couldn’t help but laugh, kiss him on the nose, and-

            _No._ He willed the tears out of his eyes, but they barely budged. He tried his best not to think about him. He tried not to think about how the only remaining evidence of Bokuto’s presence was a single, black hairband. He had been trying his absolute hardest for _weeks_ to get over Bokuto’s departure to America. He wouldn’t let a silly hairband destroy all his progress, triggering a flood of unwanted emotions and memories.

            Once Bokuto left to go to university in America, Akaashi felt lost. He made a habit out of getting high, and sleeping through the day with the lights still turned on. At nights, he often drank away his pain while being surrounded by those who were drinking for pleasure. He didn’t care to keep himself in a healthy state. He knew he was worrying others, but he simply stopped paying attention to them. Waves of missing Bokuto became tsunami tides in his eyes, and they drowned him before he could think to stay afloat.

            To get away from his thoughts, he quickly strode over to his closet and took a towel out, heading to the bathroom for a shower. He spun the faucet to a freezing temperature, holding his hand in the icy water until he was satisfied with the numbness it brought him. He peeled off his clothes, which he had been wearing for days on end, and stepped into the shower. Only then did he let his tears fall, because he could pretend that they were merely a part of the shower, and he didn’t have to face the fact that he was crying. He gave up being strong, or his version of it anyway, and let the floodgates barred against his memories finally open.

 

            _“Keiji, I have to talk to you.” Bokuto said as he plopped down on the bed next to Akaashi. They were in Bokuto’s bedroom. It was supposed to be movie night. Every Friday became movie night when they started dating, because Bokuto had a comically large collection of movies that he wanted to show Akaashi. Akaashi only lifted an eyebrow as a response, prompting Bokuto to go on. He sat at an unusually far distance from Akaashi, especially considering that he had no concept of personal space. He pulled at his fingers, which Akaashi knew meant he was nervous. He shifted to face Bokuto, sitting up and crisscrossing his legs. “I’m going to America for university.” Bokuto said bluntly. Akaashi felt his stomach drop inside of him. He blinked, somehow managing to keep a straight face._

_“America.” He mused, dropping his gaze from Bokuto’s amber eyes. He bit the inside of his cheek when he felt his eyes stinging. “America…” He repeated. His heart was beating a mile a minute, but his speech was sluggish. “For how long?”_

_“Keiji.”_

_“For how long?” He met Bokuto’s owlish eyes again, seeing his own sadness reflected in his boyfriend’s teary eyes._

_“Three years.”_

_Akaashi’s stomach plummeted._

_“Of course.” Akaashi said as if he already knew. A moment passed, then he began to cry._

_It was a soft sort of crying, much unlike the violent sobbing he would spend hours doing once Bokuto left. Bokuto held Akaashi in his muscular arms, not really minding that Akaashi stained his shirt with tears. They sat like that for minutes on end as Bokuto ran his fingers through Akaashi’s hair. Akaashi took into account every detail of Bokuto he could out of fear of forgetting._

_“I’m brushing up my English.” Bokuto whispered against Akaashi’s neck._

_“You’re horrible at English.” Akaashi whispered back. Bokuto’s bittersweet laughter sent vibrations through Akaashi’s back, where it was pressed against his chest._

_“Keiji!” Bokuto whined at him. “You promised not to bring it up!”_

_“Sorry.”_

_“See? We can handle three years, right?” Bokuto sounded so optimistic and bright that he almost rid Akaashi of his doubt._

_“Yeah.” He said hoarsely. He didn’t know if he meant it._

And here he was, a year later, sobbing in the shower. He shook his head disbelievingly at their naivety. He and Bokuto could barely find time for phone calls, due to Bokuto’s busy university schedule. Even if Bokuto did call, Akaashi would be either too drunk or too high to keep conversation. Maybe he would just decline the call, since he knew there were probably improved copies of himself out there that could love Bokuto better than he ever would. He genuinely wished that Bokuto would find another Akaashi to love him, one who could handle him without resorting to drugs and alcohol to relieve his sadness. One who ate on a regular basis. One who didn’t treat his friends like shit when they tried to help. One who didn’t grow to hate himself more and more with each passing-

            Under the sound of the running shower, Akaashi heard the doorbell ring. He groaned at the thought of human interaction, stood up, and shut off the water. While he was replaying the memories of his last day with Bokuto in his mind, he didn’t notice the chilled temperatures of the water. He abruptly felt incomplete without the water pounding into his back, so cold that it began to feel hot. How long was he in there for?

            His pruned fingers lifted the towel to his hair, drying it as best as he could. The doorbell sounded again. Akaashi deadpanned.

            “Impatient.” He said coldly, wrapping the towel around his waist. He swiftly padded into his room and pulled out whatever clothes were at the top of his drawers. He ignored the third chime of the bell as he dressed himself, taking as much time as he needed before heading downstairs and to his front door. He stood in front of it for a moment, preparing himself for the guaranteed annoyance that came with keeping conversation, then whipped it open with disgust.

            A pair of familiar, amber eyes shined like the sun and glimmered back at him. He instantly felt warmth, something that had been missing since those eyes left him behind for university. Bokuto beamed back at him, his face alight with the happiness that had been sucked from Akaashi a year ago.

“Keiji!” Bokuto exclaimed delightedly. His face fell when Akaashi flinched at the loudness of his voice. Akaashi opened his mouth to say something, but shut it and flung his arms around Bokuto instead. He fell into broken sobs and he gathered a fistful of Bokuto’s shirt in his hands and tried to convince himself it wasn’t his imagination, that it was real this time. “Woah…” Bokuto trailed off, then rubbed Akaashi’s back gingerly. For Akaashi, the world was dancing. The only thing he cared about was his boyfriend in front of him, even if it was only for a moment.

            “How?” He choked out through his tears.

            “I wanted to visit while I’m on break! What, did you think I’d replace you while I was away?” He laughed heartily, but Akaashi didn’t join in. He held Bokuto tighter, like he was going to disappear. “Besides, it’s movie night! I brought the worst ones I could find.”

            And for the first time in a year, Akaashi genuinely laughed. His laughter made Bokuto’s eyebrows raise in excitement, his smile slowly growing as Akaashi shifted to face him. He pressed their foreheads together, then leaned forward and locked their lips together in a kiss. Sure, his tears probably got on Bokuto’s face which wasn’t the best thing in the world, but it was all he needed. Bokuto was real and in front of him, and there was nothing more relieving than that.

            “I missed you, Koutarou."

**Author's Note:**

> See?? That wasn't too bad, was it? I hope you enjoyed and PLEASE leave a comment below as I love to read them :)


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